


The Vanquished and the Viktor

by IlaraTam



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Arasaka is the worst, Corpo V (Cyberpunk 2077), Depression, F/M, Fluff, Panic Attacks, We all need some Wholesome Viktor in our lives, just so much fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-26 23:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30113601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IlaraTam/pseuds/IlaraTam
Summary: "The first time I met Vik was on the worst day of my life."V struggles to adapt to life on the streets as a nobody, instead of above them as Arasaka counter-intel. She's fallen apart in every way imaginable. But a gruff ripperdoc at the end of an alley might just be able to help her pick up the pieces.
Relationships: V/Viktor Vector
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	1. Terminated

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when quarantine makes me sad and then CDPR doesn't let me romance all the best characters. (And when I think of puns and no one can stop me.)
> 
> Also, I apologize if any of the Spanish is off; I only really know English and some amount of French. I've done my best, but if there are any grievous errors that you'd like to see corrected, and you'd like to let me know, please do and I will make any changes necessary.
> 
> Enjoy! (Hopefully!)

The first time I met Vik was on the worst day of my life.

Jackie had to drag me bodily out of Lizzie's Bar -- I was shaking so bad I couldn't walk right. Stashed me right in front on his bike and said the same thing he'd said to me in México: "Vives, así que puedo gritarte más tarde." Live, so I can yell at you later.

I don't really remember the ride, though that's probably for the best. I do remember opening my eyes to a blonde woman wearing a pentacle, and the strong smell of incense. I remember a cat. The rattling of a metal gate. Raised voices.

A cool hand tipped my chin, and I found myself looking into a pair of sunglasses. Then, a moment later, into heavily augmented brown eyes. At a glance I could see layers of tech, generations swapped out for newer models, years and years of use -- but they were still somehow the kindest eyes I'd ever seen.

"You can leave her with me, Jackie. I'll sort her out." The stranger spoke over my head, and I realized he was almost as tall as Jack.

"You sure? I've never seen her look this bad, doc..."

"Yeah, I'm sure. You two kids can get back to the shop."

"Ehh ... okay. Thanks Vik. I owe you one."

"Yeah, yeah."

I felt unsteady without Jackie's solid presence behind me. In the same moment, I realized the doctor -- Vik? -- was still touching my face, though gently.

I summoned up every ounce of strength and will I had left.

"I'm not sure if this is entirely necessary," I began carefully. "I'm just experiencing some expected symptoms of withdr--"

Pain shot through my chest, destroying my one attempt at dignity. Strong, sure hands took me by the arms and guided me into a nearby chair.

"I'd say it's just as well Jackie didn't listen, with respect, Miss..." Dimly I noted his connection to my personal link. "Edgeworth." I shook my head as much as I could. He hesitated. "Valerie...?"

"V," I gasped. "Just V."

"Ah, sorry. V. Hmm. You've got a lot of nonfunctioning implants. And your cortisol and adrenaline levels are through the roof."

"Corp tech," I hissed through gritted teeth. "I was ... Arasaka counter intel ... got terminated, they--" Pain lanced through my chest again, and my heart felt like it was trying to smash through my ribs. Or stop completely.

"Biomod? Hormone regulators? Blood pressure? Cognitive boosters?" I nodded each time. "Stims? Overclock?" I nodded again, and he sighed. "How long?"

"Whole time. Six ... no, seven years."

"And cut all that off at once." He took my face in his hands and tilted my head to look into my eyes. I'm not sure what he saw, but he looked sympathetic. No, more than that. Pained. "Kid, if I didn't know any better, I'd say they wanted you well and truly terminated."

"They tried. Jackie scared 'em off."

"'Course he did," Vik smiled. I'd never seen a smile like that. "Well, first thing's first: airhypo." With practiced ease he undid my blazer and pulled it aside to expose my chest, the skin just below where my cybernetics seam ended.

"I don't think that's--" The drug cut me off with a thump and a hiss as it slammed into my sternum. All at once the pain eased, but it took my breath with it.

I blacked out.

When I came to, I was on the floor, and Vik's lips were on mine.

My chest felt like I'd been kicked by a cybermule. I sputtered and coughed, and above me I heard a murmured "Oh, thank God," which set my mind straight.

CPR. Just CPR. Nothing more.

Though if I needed it, that meant...

My sight cleared. Vik's face still hovered close to mine as he frantically checked me over. His 'ganic hand cradled my head. I reached up and touched his cheek, to get his attention.

"Hey, thanks," I croaked. It was all I could manage. He huffed a little laugh.

"It's what I do." He lifted me up into a sitting position. "You feelin' alright now?"

"Sore. But ... yeah, better." I held out my hand. "Shaking less."

Vik watched the tremor with one eyebrow raised.

"That's better?"

"You should've seen me in Frankfurt."

Vik huffed another little laugh.

"Can you stand? I'd like to get you in the patient's chair."

I carefully slung an arm around his shoulder, and he wrapped his around my waist. My legs still did not like being called on in such a manner, but Vik was strong, solid. With him I felt like I could never fall.

I blacked out again in the chair as Vik ran more in depth diagnostics, but only for a bit, and he didn't seem worried. I vaguely wondered when I'd last slept. Eventually I startled awake as the ripperdoc clapped his hands together.

"Right. Got you all worked out."

"You have? Already? Most men never manage it at all."

"I'm not most men." Was that a grin? It was. Still kind of shy, though. Adorable. "Your regulators were working overtime as it was, and they weren't cutting it. There were a lot of stims and boosters in your system, but even so, somethin's not right. You get shaky a lot? Panicked, like?"

I frowned. "As a kid, sometimes, I guess. Why?"

"I think you might have a problem with cortisol regulation. Serotonin, too. Norepinephrine, ephedrine, dopamine ... I dunno if it's congenital, but it's definitely chronic, and whatever happened at your corp did a number on it. On you. You, ah ... you've got anxiety, V. Chronic. Depression, too, maybe."

I just stared at him.

"I'm ... scared and sad? You felt the need to tell me that specially?"

"No, no, it's ... they're conditions, V. Things you live with that stick around all the time. Like having bad eyesight, stuff like that. It is what it is. It can be managed. Fixed, kind of. Your implants were doing it, mostly, but stress and stims were making a mess of things. Arasaka never told you?"

A strange kind of roaring sound crashed in my ears. My voice sounded detached, some other person speaking my words.

"No, they did not. I suppose they never found it worth mentioning."

"The chest pain's from panic attacks, cortisol and adrenaline spikes. You're more susceptible than most, is all."

"But you said you can fix it?"

"Yep," Vik's mood turned completely around as he pulled a monitor over. "I'll have to take the dud implants out anyway, but I can also replace 'em. Got a hormone regulator that'll work at least as well as the one you had, maybe better with a few tweaks. Haven't got a full biomon, but I can have the regulator trip a warning if anything it looks at gets outta whack, and tell you what it is."

"That's better than I thought I'd have," I shrugged. Vik tapped the screen.

"There's also this."

I squinted. "Is that ... Militech?"

"Got it in one. DRM's stripped, serial number's filed off, so to speak, but it oughtta do the trick."

"Vik. That's a combat chip. I'm no corp agent, not anymore. I'm not police. I'm nobody. Just having that would be illegal."

"V, look at me." Something in Vik's voice made me obey. He was serious now, his kind eyes grave. "Your very existence is barely legal, now. The law doesn't protect people like us. Corps serve themselves. The law serves corps, and eddies. You're not safe out there. None of us are. The least I can do is help you keep an edge."

I swallowed a sudden lump in my throat.

"Thanks, Vik. I hadn't ... I mean, I knew, I guess, but if you don't live it then you never really know. So, I didn't. But now I'm starting to. Know." I grimaced. Real eloquent, V.

Vik just nodded and started getting his tools together.

"Time to make you a new woman."

I considered a witty reply, but fell asleep before I could think of one.


	2. Permanent Impermanence

In the following weeks, I slowly learned what life was like on the streets, rather than above them.

Mama Welles was wonderful, and so patient with me. At times I thought of my own mother, cold and distant, and wondered at the difference.

I also learned exactly how much Jackie liked his new flame.

Misty had only been his girl for a few months, but even I could see she already meant far more to him than just another output. We chatted sometimes, enough to be friends, but most of the time I left them alone and wandered down to Vik's.

Sometimes he had clients, but mostly he didn't. The screen on his desk showed boxing matches, current ones, highlights, old runs. But he never failed to hear me come in.

"V! How're you doing? You look a lot better today."

I did my best model pose, and took a seat in the other chair.

"I am! I even did my hair. And my face."

Vik reached out as though he meant to touch my cheek, but at the last moment he gently chucked my chin instead.

"Gorgeous," he rumbled with a smile. I tried to ignore my blush and covered it with a cough.

"Got any clients today?"

"Been and gone. Arm replacement," he gestured to a point midway between his left shoulder and elbow. "Went for the synthetic skin option and everything."

I whistled.

"That's not cheap. I didn't know you even did those."

"It's not common, but some people have their tastes. Said they wanted to get their tattoos redone."

"Is that also a service you provide?" I grinned, and he chuckled.

"I'm no artist. Misty could probably draw up something, though."

"That's sweet, but I'll pass." My eyes were drawn to the tattoos on his right arm, following them up to where they disappeared under his rolled up shirt sleeve. "It's odd to think of something so permanent being lost, but I'd rather not tempt fate. I like my limbs."

Vik shrugged.

"That can be a good reason to mark 'em, too. Show they're yours. That no one owns you but you."

He said it so casually, so simply, that the weight of the words hit me out of nowhere.

Don't cut your hair, or you'll displease your mother. No hair dye allowed on any students at this school. Employees must have no visible tattoos or facial piercings.

I forced it down. Not thinking about that right now. Just surviving. One day at a time.

"So, uh ... what do you do when you're not replacing limbs or saving damsels in distress?"

Vik waved a hand with a shy smile.

"You make my life sound way more exciting than it is."

"That's not an answer," I smiled back. "Does it have something to do with those matches? Do you put money on them?"

"What? Oh," he glanced over at the monitor just in time to see one fighter knock another flat. "No, I leave it on from force of habit as much as anything. Most of 'em have chromium skull plates absorbing most of the damage they take, these days. Time was they'd've been flattened in one round."

I watched him as he spoke, the way he watched the fighters, the subtle movements of his hands and shoulders, as though he was reacting instinctively to the opponents' every move. His shirt sleeve shifted slightly, enough to show the full tattoo at his elbow.

Oh.

"You fight."

Vik tore his gaze away from the screen and focused it all on me, instead.

"I used to. Don't anymore, unless I'm training a new kid. How'd you know?"

"Counter intel," I reminded him. "They didn't pick me just for my incredible good looks."

Vik snorted.

"They were fools to let you go, either way." His kind brown eyes held mine, even behind his shades. "But I'm glad they did."

"I--"

"V!" Jackie's earth-shattering bellow came from the top of the stairs. "We got a job! Get up here!"

When my ears stopped ringing, I stood as elegantly as I could, hurrying be damned.

"Duty calls. Loudly."

"Try to come back in one piece, yeah?"

I smiled without meaning to, a true expression of emotion I'd spent years trying to hide. It felt ... good.

"I'll do my best."


	3. Heart Too Hot To Hold

"To V and her wheels!"

"To her wheels!"

"To her wheeeeeeeels!"

The four of us broke into cackles of laughter that mingled with the spit and crackle of the campfire. We'd driven just far enough out of the city proper that we wouldn't be bothered, and Jackie had wasted no time in breaking out the bottles.

"So you really never sat at a campfire before, chica?" Jackie asked incredulously, for what felt like the fifteenth time.

"I really haven't! It's not like I ever got much of a chance. My family's idea of 'roughing it' is a three star hotel. And Arasaka tends to frown on employees ever taking their holidays."

"...de un mundo diferente," Jackie mumbled.

"Here," Misty handed me a long, thin stick with something white at the end. "Marshmallows. They're good cooked over the fire."

I gingerly took the alien thing from her. Most of those words did not make sense. At least not together. I tried to copy her as she held her own stick gently over the flames.

"Careful," Vik rumbled beside me. "They're pretty much pure sugar. Get them too close to the fire and--"

In a blink the entire stick and everything on it burst into flames. I shrieked and dropped it, right into the pile of wood and ash.

Jackie laughed so hard he fell over. I was torn between laughing and blushing so fiercely I thought I'd burst into flames next. I settled for neither.

"I'm actually very capable and intimidating, you know," I frowned at Jackie, who just laughed harder.

"Here," Misty pressed another stick into my hand, her voice gentle. "Try again."

I carefully extended the stick over the fire, hoping against hope that these ones wouldn't also pop off like grenades.

"Best to keep 'em above the flames." Vik scooted closer and held his hand over mine. He was gentle, and waited a moment to see how I reacted. I nodded slightly. His warm hand wrapped around mine and angled the stick out of the fire, holding it just above.

"It's about the heat," he murmured. "The part you can't see. Sometimes that tells you more than what you can."

Jackie passed me the tequila, grinning in bashful apology. A swig or two and I felt much happier with the world. I passed the bottle back to Vik and concentrated on turning the stick, keeping the heat even.

Behind me I felt Vik shuffle over to hand the bottle to Misty. When he settled and took my hand again, guiding it over the flames, I realized he now sat directly behind me. If I just leaned back, even a little...

"Those look done," Misty piped up, just as the marshmallows started to blacken and threaten fire again. I pulled them back quickly and blew on them.

Success.

Hmm. I stared at the charred blobs.

"...How do you eat them?"

"Como éste." Jackie brandished his own stick and pulled a marshmallow off, the outside giving way to gooey sugar inside. He winced a little but grinned anyway.

"Jackie. How do you still have fingers."

"Pssh, it's not that hot."

Oh, a challenge. Well then.

I carefully pulled a marshmallow off the end of the charred stick. Fuck, that's hot. Not wanting to give Jackie the satisfaction, I ignored the pain and popped it in my mouth.

The sound I made was entirely involuntary. It was just so damn good. The inside melted on my tongue, the faint traces of smoke only adding to the impossibly luxurious taste. It was just cheap candy held over burning logs, how could it be so -- so sinfully good?

"So, you like it, then?" Vik said lightly. I opened my eyes to find everyone staring at me. Even Vik had moved up a bit, and he looked at me over his shades as he spoke.

Cool cool cool time to die of embarrassment. This is fine. I cast about for any kind of subject change, when inspiration hit me.

"Couldn't have done it without you," I replied lightly, delicately pulling the second marshmallow off the stick. Or as delicately as I could with my fingers sticking together. "To the Viktor goes the spoils."

He opened his mouth to reply, and I popped the marshmallow in.

For all his poking fun, he nearly lost himself in the moment too, a real, contented smile spreading across his face as he swallowed. My breath hitched. What I wouldn't give to see that smile again...

"Well?" I said instead. Vik tilted his head.

"Alright. A little overcooked."

His grin turned wicked. I poked his nose and left a large blob of melted marshmallow, and all at once dissolved into giggles.

Jackie brandished a new bottle -- whiskey, this time, and bellowed, "Toast!" He held the whiskey up solemnly. "To mis amigos, the best a man could ask for." One swig down and he passed it right, to Misty.

"To the stars," she smiled, and sure enough, a few twinkled in the clear desert sky.

Vik reached past me as I stared at the sky.

"To freedom," he said simply. We all nodded.

Then the bottle was pressed into my hands.

A dozen thoughts came and went, trite sentiments, jokes, untruths and half truths. There was something I wanted to say, something I needed to say, words that would encompass whatever was glowing in my chest, that ember I'd first felt at Lizzie's as I clung to life with my fingertips. The warmth of the fire, the wide expanse of the sky, the company of these people I'd come to know and trust, who didn't bother with masks or bullshit politics, only with what was real.

I raised the bottle.

"To this."

\-----

The fire burned lower, but still warm enough. Jackie and Misty had pitched a tent a little ways away -- perhaps several, but I at least did the courtesy of not looking at Jackie's pants -- and were clearly out for the night. I stared into the flames, halfway between all the thoughts I'd shoved aside and no thoughts at all.

A bottle appeared in front of my eyes. I blinked. RealWater?

"Drink," Vik said above me. I took the bottle and smiled up at him. He nodded. "Doctor's orders."

I hadn't realized how thirsty I was. The whole bottle was gone in seconds.

"Doctor was right," I sighed. Vik chuckled. It quickly turned to a groan as he sat back down, accompanied by various clicks and pops. I turned around, alarmed, but he just leaned his back against my car.

"I'm fine. Joints just reckon I'm too old for this shit. They'll learn."

I studied him for a moment. Considered. Then tossed another log on the fire, felt its warmth spread farther, and shuffled a foot or so back to reach him.

"What hurts?"

Vik looked at me, still taller even sitting like this, and sighed.

"Everything." His gaze stayed fixed on me behind his shades. "And nothing at all."

Slowly, gently, as he'd done for me, I leaned into him, just as I'd wanted to do before.

He didn't push me away. He didn't even tense up. I leaned back into his warm, wonderfully solid chest, and he sighed. Slung one arm loosely around my waist. Pressed subtly into me, his breath soft in my hair.

Relaxed. He was relaxed. Content, even. After a moment I realized, even more astonishingly, that I was, too.

I leaned my head back against his shoulder and looked up at the sky. Misty's stars had moved a little, but was there another? That faint light beside the brighter one?

"Sometimes I forget this is what night is meant to look like," Vik said quietly. "I'll go whole years without seeing it."

"When I was a kid, I'd spend whole nights searching for just one star. Any star. Didn't matter which one." Memories of the cold plasteel balcony surfaced behind my eyes. "Sometimes I'd pretend the lights from an AV were stars, just so I wouldn't feel so alone."

Vik tightened his hold around me, a one-armed embrace. God, he was so warm. In the best way.

"Wish I could stay out here forever." The admission rolled off my tongue before I realized it.

"Well, you do have wheels, now. Could drive away, join the nomads, if you wanted."

I almost entertained the notion for a second before coughing out a sarcastic laugh.

"Nah. I'd never manage. You can take the rat from the corpo…"

Vik shifted, pulling me around just enough to see his face. His shades were off; his kind, brown eyes looked directly into mine.

"You are not a rat," he said clearly, voice low, intense. "And no corpo can lay their hands on you again."

"That's not--" Vik pressed a finger to my lips.

"You are more than what they made you. This freedom, this power, this … everything you meant when you toasted to 'this', it's yours." He stroked my cheek with the backs of his fingers, knuckles dragging softly across my cheekbone, over my jaw. "We all have that last inch of dignity, integrity, power, choice. Whatever you want to call it. You keep it safe. You draw on it when you need to, when there's nothing else left. That's who you are." He cupped my cheek in his palm. "You burn too hot for them to hold."

I felt tears sting at the corners of my eyes, even as my heart leapt.

"And you?" I whispered. Vik gave me a small, crooked smile.

"Me?" Slowly, gently, he leaned down close, so close his breath warmed my skin. "I'm fireproof."

I tilted my head, and he pressed his lips to mine.


End file.
